White Castle
by BullinaChinaShop
Summary: What would happen if the White Collar crew met up with the Chuck team? Rated Teen for mild language and romance. Charah will feature.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hi I'm BullinaChinaShop, and this is my first story. I've personally been inspired by Frea O'Scanlin, quistie64 (Huge SOM/SOM2 fan), LongLiveChuck, and mxpw. Their level of writing is quite literally amazing, and I would highly recommend checking out their stories. Anyway, I'd like to thank my co-author LongLiveChuck, and ask that you read and review. Enjoy!

Chuck was standing at the Nerd Herd desk, much like usual lately. He and Hannah were bargaining over her advancement within the Herd. Or rather, he was being told how things were going to go on the next install. Otherwise he was going to be going with Jeff. 'The padawan learns quickly…' he mused to himself. And then Sarah decided to walk in and kick down his nice warm bubble of happiness with swat boots and a stun grenade.

"Shaw's at a museum, tried to steal something for the CIA, something went wrong, you need to fix it." Or that's how Chuck interpreted that. There was a lot of hand waving, and insults were possibly being thrown around. He wasn't quite sure. Rather, his focus was on trying not to go into a full-Morgan protective stance. The only way to do that was to push back.

So he leaned forward, and let loose, "You couldn't have given me a ten minute heads up about this, so I could fake a call for an install? Or even better, you couldn't tell me that there was a mission going down today? Since when did I get cut out of the loop on missions? I'm the frakkin' Intersect!"

Sarah gave him that look that quelled revolutions with silverware.

"Fine just give me a minute!"

Two minutes later, he and Hannah,-fortunately, were in the car racing toward the install. Hannah just took it to be a rush job, and decided not comment. Smart Girl. Casey was there to greet them. "Bartowski….why did you bring a date to the mission? No….. Never mind, I don't want to know. I crashed the computer servers upstairs, Shaw's in the vault and you have approximately five minutes before he's dead. So move!" He pushed Chuck into the server room.

Hannah looked at him curiously. "Security guy, explaining the situation" Chuck answered rapidly, in effort to protect what was left of their cover. They sat down, and the rather pompous, very British curator decided that then would be the best time to unleash his diatribe against computers and ruining his priceless art collection. When Chuck could feel the man's breath condensing on his neck, he decided shutting him up would be optimal for all involved. "A little breathing room please!"

The curator straightened very suddenly and harrumphed his way to the back of the room.

Chuck turned to Hannah, "Have you ever restarted a server from a backup database?"

"Now you're just insulting me." Hannah replied with a smirk.

Chuck grinned, "Well then show me what you've got, noobie!" And then keys clacked as fingers raced across keyboards. "Pull up the comm-based script off of server one"

"Validated. Next?"

"Alright, we need to reboot both servers one and two at roughly the same time. On my count, one, two, three." They both pushed the button.

Red lights stopped flashing, horns stopped blaring, and Chuck's phone vibrated. Shaw was safe. Somehow he and Hannah ended up tangled in each other's arms.

'Oh this is going to be awkward…' Chuck thought as he disengaged. "Well done noobie! That went spectacularly for your first install."

He listened to the British arse give his profuse thanks, and then stiffened. He was hiring them to handle computer security for the gala tomorrow. Wonderful. What if there was a mission? Hannah was looking at him expectantly.

Chuck smiled that patent Bartowski smile, crooked with a touch o' sugar, and proclaimed "It's a date!"

Chuck and Casey walked into Castle. This would normally not be an important detail, except that Casey actually allowed him a degree of autonomy in his entrance…. After literally dragging him out of the Buy More, and shoving him into the freezer. The man had some unresolved issues. Chuck looked down onto the tableau of Sarah looking at a coffee cup like someone had handed her the remains of Jeff's lunch…. From two days ago. She gingerly dropped the swizzle stick in the trash, much like one would drop a soiled diaper or bad Chinese takeout.

"Gentlemen, thank you for joining us" Chuck could have sworn that Shaw had some Beckman blood in him. "As I'm sure you've gathered, the CIA is not in fact interested in the Mask of Alexander. We have reason to suspect that the Ring have been using these artifacts to smuggle things into the country, in order to avoid customs." He began to detail how they knew this, why it was important, and Chuck slowly drifted into what he called his Charlie Brown state of mind. Shaw appeared to be making the sounds of a badly tuned trumpet. "Bwa Bwubwu Bwau Chuck will handle surveillance from the security center in the museum. Any questions?"

Chuck stood up. Sarah acerbically asked whether bringing a civilian, Hannah, on the mission was a good idea. Chuck sat back down. He considered attempting to scrub the mission. That brought up too many memories of Beckman shooting him down.

So he said the next logical thing. "I can take care of Hannah, and besides, it'll be good for me to be on site. You know, in case you need to call in the big guns." Now Casey, Shaw, AND Sarah were giving him that 'Chuck what?!' Look. "When I was referring to big guns, I was really referring to the intersect…. Do I need to flash? No…? Good, glad we had this talk." He sputtered rapidly. And with that he made his usual cowering retreat. At least he didn't go full-Morgan. That would have been embarrassing.

Chuck squirmed in his ergonomically sound, completely polyester, totally uncomfortable office chair, trying to find his "Zen position", aka a position that would not cause his back to itch, nor his butt to lose circulation. He failed. He forgot about the weight distribution thing on the chair. "Whoa!" he yelled as his chair unexpectedly tilted back on him, the air filled with scrawny limbs, soda, and chicken fried rice, as he slammed back into Hannah, who had just walked in with their dinner.

"Seriously Chuck?" Hannah said crossly, soda slowly melting the white Nerd Herd shirt into transparency.

"Oh….oh my god….I'm so sorry...here, let me help you dry up!" Chuck said while scrambling to his feet, grains of rice sticking like hot gum to the bottom of his chuck taylors. He began to dab cautiously at her face, studiously avoiding looking at the bright pink undergarment that was currently making its presence known through the not-really-there shirt.

Hannah brushed his hand away.

"Chuck...I hope this isn't too forward. I really like you. Have since Paris." She laughed a little nervously, "That's actually the reason I took this job. And maybe I haven't been giving strong enough signals out, but I'm going to go with bluntness this time around. I'm going to kiss you now. Is that ok?" She stepped closer to Chuck, whose heart was trying to do the equivalent of tap-dancing whilst falling out of a space shuttle. Without a parachute. 'Remember Lou...' said the ChuckEllie. 'Oh shut up and kiss the girl already.' said the oh so persuasive ChuckMorgan. Chuck had to agree with his inner Morgan.

"No, forward is good." He said with that patented Bartowski smile.

After that he couldn't honestly tell what happened in the next minute. Then everything went to hell, naturally. He spun Hannah so that she could sit on the desk, and his eyes caught two images on the surveillance screen. First, Shaw was apparently kissing Sarah's neck. 'Really?' He thought to himself. 'That cannot be mission critical. Stupid Shaw.'

The second image was by far more disturbing. A man whose features could have been chiseled out of volcanic obsidian suddenly faced the camera, having a mini-conference with a group of other suits. Chuck felt the flash coming on, 'no not now why do you hate me universe?' Then all was lost in a multicolored tube that bled various images from its walls, most of it pictures of valuable stolen objects. A rap sheet. And then one of a man with half of his face engulfed in flames. Chuck needed to figure a way out of this, and fast.

He then noticed the soda soaking through his shirt as well ... EUREKA.

"You're soaked" He managed to stammer as they came up for air, "Let me go get you some towels or something." He felt her shiver as she nodded. The gentleman in him simply could not leave without doing something, so he took the black jacket that he had previously hung on the back of the torture device, known as the office chair, and wrapped it around her. Then he ran out of the room.

"Sarah, Shaw we have a problem." Chuck wheezed. 'Still need to work on those sprinting muscles.. .' he noted. "I just flashed. Nicos Vasillis, known Ring agent and accomplished art thief, is in the house. And guess who decided it was a good idea to burn half of his face off?" He looked pointedly at Shaw, who grimaced.

"We need to abort then" Shaw said, pitching his voice so that only the three of them could hear it.

Chuck vehemently disagreed. "Vasillis has not seen you yet. But he is here for the mask and he brought his team. Shaw, you need to leave now. Sarah and I will continue with the mission."

'Time to put the game face on.' Chuck began to prepare himself.

Sarah reluctantly agreed. "We can't let this ... whatever it is, get to the Ring. If they want it, it's dangerous and our job to stop them. So scoot, Shaw." She had that glint in her eyes, like the ocean of her eyes turned into ice, mouth set like a dash across her face. Shaw scooted.

As Chuck and Sarah snuck out of the room together, she noticed a man, blue fitted suit, Italian by the cut, with black leather shoes, Allen Edmonds by the look, pork pie hat in hand. He stood in front of a massive abstract painting, full of swirling chess pieces and hands reaching from out of the darkness to move them, or be moved by them. The figure sparked a distant memory, perceptible but not tangible, in Sarah's mind. Then they were through the maintenance entrance, and the man vanished between swinging double doors.

Was it him or was it a bit frosty in here? Chuck pulled off his shirt as quickly as possible, grabbing his black mission shirt from his ever present backpack. "So you and Shaw...looked like you two were having fun back there" The Sarah-Glare pierced his soul.

"Shaw and I were only playing a cover. Can you say the same of you and your French geek?" Sarah made sure to mangle the word in a frenchy sort of way.

She tossed him his hoisting harness, stripping off her dress, revealing the mission clothes underneath. Luckily both finished before Chuck could come up with some witty counter – repartee, or they could have been there all night.

"Three, two, one." Sarah counted down to prepare Chuck, and then lowered herself into the vault room. Chuck prayed that the suction cup on that pulley really could hold the leash of a rampaging Bengal tiger. He heard a small cough behind him. He turned his head and meeped. One of Vasillis' hulks stood behind him.

Seconds later he found his head ringing and body taking the express elevator past Sarah going up. 'Oh boy...' He then proceeded to bounce up and down as Sarah creatively used his tether to render the hulk unconscious. After making him sing soprano; Sarah prided herself on that move. She tossed the fake mask down to Chuck, who was getting decidedly nervous, as the doors had stuttered open and closed a couple times.

It twirled a couple times, bounced off of Chuck's hand, and then stopped, as his ring finger somehow went through one of the eyeholes. Chuck couldn't breathe. He quickly made the swap, was pulled back up by Sarah, and made short work of becoming Chuck Bartowski, nerd herder.

'Hannah!' he thought miserably. 'How in the hell am I going to explain this….?'

He didn't need to.

When he got back she was already leaving, eyes red, accusing him of being every other guy and sneaking off with Sarah while she had to deal with the weirdest computer failure she had ever seen. '….Well, she's not far off.' Chuck thought ruefully, as he massaged his tender and bright red cheek.

'Casey's never going to let this go.'

"You've reached your local Nerd Herd, how can I help you?" Chuck answered the phone lazily. Business was proceeding quite slowly at the Nerd Herd desk.

"I have the computer girl locked in the museum vault." Chuck's jaw dropped.

"You have one hour to bring me my mask or well, we both know what happens." Click.

Chuck's imitation of the Dukes of Hazzard over the Nerd Herd desk was Academy worthy. He ran through the aisles of the Buy More, desperately looking for Morgan.

"Morgan, where is Hannah?" He practically grabbed Morgan by the shirt.

"Easy dude! She just went out on a call to the Museum. Something about a repeat computer problem..." He looked down to straighten his shirt, "Dude you gotta...WHAT? When did my best friend become Batman?!" Morgan looked around in absolute confusion as Chuck covertly disappeared into Castle. "I really need to install that Find Chuck app..."

Chuck dialed Sarah faster than he had ever had in his life.

Sarah's voice sounded almost tiny through the speaker, "Chuck, don't come down here, we think there might be..." explosive coughing masked the rest of the sentence. Chuck arrived at the main Castle module, only to find it in complete lockdown. Red lights and screaming sirens bathed the base in a hellish ambience.

He noticed the screen to the right of him flashing, "CONTAMINATION: ANALYZING. CONTAMINATION: OCHLOROBENZYLMALONITRILE." Chuck felt his head tilt sideways, and his eyelids flutter. The world turned orange as the molecular structure, identifying smells and colors, the symptoms, and the cure to this particular nerve agent flew into his memory from the endless tunnel of the flash.

"Shaw, Sarah, hold on! There's an antidote that can be taken up to an hour after exposure. Vasillis will have it; he's holding Hannah in exchange for the mask!" He turned and ran back up the stairs, phone in hand, "Casey gear up, we're headed back to the museum...YES of course I have a plan!"

The museum doors swung open on their hinges as Chuck came in, backpack in hand, strode confidently into the museum.

"Stop right there!" Vasillis' voice echoed slightly as he strode forward, two bodyguards training pistols on Chuck. Pointing at Chuck, Vasillis said, "Show me my mask."

Chuck took off his backpack, removing the golden mask within. "Show me my Nerd Herder" Chuck fired back.

Vasillis smirked, "She's right in the vault. Oh look at the time", his voice hardened, "Air must be getting a little thin." Casey's voice echoed through Chuck's comm, promising a blown vault door, 'and a blown up Hannah..' Chuck thought, if Vasillis didn't open the door.

"I did what you asked, I brought the mask, now let her out". Chuck let a hint of desperation creep into his voice. Vasillis heard it; Chuck saw his eyes shift from negotiator to great white shark staring at an exposed posterior.

"Got him." his eyes broadcasted for all to see.

"If it were up to me, sure, she would walk free. But the people you stole from, the Ring", and he made a small circle in the air with his finger, "They're not so forgiving."

Chuck felt his inner Carmichael rising up, "Do what you want to me, but the girl had nothing to with this."

Vasillis was practically gloating now, "You're in no position to make demands. You gave up all leverage you had when you came here with the mask." He started forward.

"Not quite!" Chuck yelped, stretching his hands, still holding the mask, above his head. "I think we both know what's in this mask. You open the door and release the girl, or I drop it".

Vasillis snorted, "I'm sorry, but I don't believe you."

At that point the entire operation went off script. The solid oak doors of the museum imploded, and cries of "Freeze! FBI" resounded throughout the exhibition hall. Chuck, startled dropped the mask, and the smoke grenade combined with pepper spray so cleverly disguised in the base, exploded, emitting a white smoke with a distinct pepper smell.

Vasillis screamed, "You fool! You've doomed us all" just as cries of "CS" rang out from the FBI team. Chuck screamed back at him, "Well you have an antidote don't you!"

Vasillis answered, saying, "Of course! It's in a vase!"

Chuck almost screaming with him "Well which one?!"

Vasillis turned white with terror, "I don't know! I wasn't planning to steal this myself!"

Chuck smugly turned to the FBI agents who were rapidly slamming down eye protection from their SWAT helmets, "Okay boys, arrest this man for attempted burglary and dissemination of a chemical weapon." The obvious team lead, ' from the party!' Chuck belatedly thought, looked at him like he was crazy. Chuck quickly explained the deception, and the agent, Peter Burke, started barking orders. Vasillis and his men were handcuffed on the ground before they could blink, and Chuck directed them to the correct vase, after flashing on it. He ran up to the control room. 10 minutes, he thought, 10 minutes to get Hannah out. He brushed past the bound and bruised curator in one of those ungodly swivel chairs, threw his laptop on the table, and started pounding keys. 3, a drop of sweat dripped down his face, collecting on the tip of his nose. 2, lines of code began to race across the laptop screen. 1, virtual locks began to open. 0, the doors of the vault slowly slid open. Chuck collapsed in his chair, and then ran downstairs again, brushing against the hapless curator, still spinning in his chair from the first time. Casey accosted him halfway down the stairs, demanding the antidote, both knowing that it was a useless gesture. Then they both sprinted down the stairs as the doors to the museum slammed open for the second time that day, admitting one Daniel Shaw and a nearly comatose Sarah Walker. Casey is already halfway across the room, having mentally committed to make the futile drive to Castle, just knowing that he would be too late. He registers the two figures coming in the door, just as Shaw sees all of the other agents in the room, and catches them as Shaw's treacherous legs begin to waver and fall. Breathing in the healing blue of the antigen, Sarah slowly thrashes her way through the molasses of unconsciousness towards the light of lucidity. In her state of mind, she fails to notice Hannah and Chuck huddled in the vault, clinging to each other like wet clothing to skin, settling for burrowing her head into the warm niche created by Shaw's neck and shoulder. The closer she got to full consciousness, however, the more she felt the need to move, to do anything productive. So she lifted her head, and the first thing she noticed in the ruined exhibition hall was the man, striding over to the older man with a kindly face cut by smile lines, angry expression on his face. The sight of him actually caused her to rocket out of Shaw's arms, onto the balls of her feet, fists clenching, clarity fully restored.

"Bryce?!"

A/N2: Duh duh duuuhhh. For those of you who watch White Collar, you will get this. The rest of you, what are you doing with your lives? JK, but you might want to check out the show for you to get the ending. Read and Review!


	2. Faces in Shadow

**A/N 1: So I'm very sorry about the lateness of this update. School's tough. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. It's a solo effort this time around so any errors/OOCness is on me. Read and Review please! **

White Castle Chapter 2: Faces in Shadow

The man in the hat, along with everyone else, turned to look at Sarah. Burke was the first to react, "Who are you talking about Agent Walker? There's no one here by that name, and why are you pointing a gun at my CI?"

An ominous click echoed through the room as Casey's safety disengaged. All eyes immediately swiveled to look at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Casey?" Shaw asked angrily.

"You weren't around to hear me the first time, so I'll repeat. You get a shot at Bryce Larkin, you shoot to kill" Casey's eyes narrowed as his gun continued to point unwaveringly at the man in the hat, who was slowly raising his hands.

"Casey, stand down." Eyes swiveled back to where they started, as Sarah Walker re-holstered her gun. "I'm not sure what in the name of sanity is going on right now, but we don't need to get in a pissing match with the FBI. Let's head back to Castle and clear this up. Agent Burke, you wouldn't mind if we borrowed your CI for a moment would you?"

Burke looked like he wanted to argue, but Sarah had that revolution quelling look in her eye, and a CIA badge in her hand.

"He's all yours, Agent Walker. If it's all the same to you, though I would like him returned in one piece please."

The man in the hat spoke, "Ok can we stop calling me him or Bryce or whatever? The name's Neal Caffrey" he looked directly at Sarah. "Now before I go anywhere with you, would you mind explaining why both of you pointed guns in my face, and that guy" He pointed at the prostrate Chuck, "just passed out?"

Casey grabbed him by the shoulder and walked him out the door with grunt #56, "Move it, moron." Sarah followed after him with a brusque, "It's classified", and Shaw brought up the end with Chuck over his shoulder and leaving Hannah gaping in vault.

The diminutive visage of a very angry, flame-headed general towered over Neal Caffrey and the team.

"Who is this, and why was he brought into my base?" Brigadier-General Diane Beckman ranted.

Shaw stood up. "General, we met this man, Neal Caffrey at the museum, where Chuck and Casey aided in the capture of Nicos Vasillis, a con-man of some repute who has strong ties to the Ring. This operation coincided with an FBI sting to secure the same man on charges of art theft and forgery. Agent Walker, Colonel Casey and Agent Bartowski all identified this man," he gestured to Neal, "as one Bryce Larkin, although that agent is currently listed as deceased. In addition to those three points of reference, the facial identification software in Castle identified Mr. Caffrey as Agent Larkin. We thought that this matter may be of interest to you."

The general's face was turning ashen. "Mr. Caffrey", she said slowly, "Do the names Sarah, Chuck, or Orion mean anything to you?"

Neal's brow furrowed in concentration, "My current girlfriend's name is Sara Ellis, and I'm certain I've heard the name Chuck before, but I can't place it. Orion's a constellation, right?"

General Beckman's frown was starting to threaten to split her face. "Mr. Caffrey, would you being fingerprinted, so we can confirm your identity? Simply put your hand on the touch screen in front of you." It wasn't really a request. A small screen popped out from the glowing table. Neal obediently put his hand on the screen, which flashed green. Beckman's face was minimized as the computer quickly ran through the CIA database. Almost as soon as it began the program terminated, as the screen flashed red. ACCESS DENIED, it said in glaring red letters. Beckman sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Apparently Mr. Caffrey, you are more than you appear. Could you give the agents and I a minute?" Neal made sounds that sounded like arguing; Beckman glared at him witheringly. Shaw escorted Neal to a holding cell.

"Team, the individual currently in your holding cell _is _Bryce Larkin. The DNA test in the scanner that I just ran confirmed it. I will be personally flying out to L.A. tomorrow morning to interview Agent Larkin, and to try to get to the bottom of this mess. There will be a briefing at o'ten hundred tomorrow." The screen went back to its' normal government seal.

Chuck leaned forward, frowning, "How is it possible that Bryce would truly think that he's another person? I mean I understand assuming cover identities, but _this_, this is something different." A phone vibrated. Everyone swatted at their pockets until Casey found that it was his. _Colonel tell_ _Chuck that I need him to bring his father in for the briefing tomorrow. Tell no one inside Castle._

Casey stretched, saying, "It's been a long day. Anyone want to come back to my place for a cookout?" Everyone looked at him like he had been body-snatched. Casey briefly looked down at his phone, and then the sounds of assent echoed throughout the room. Also echoing throughout the room were yells from the detention cell. Neal wanted to know what he had done wrong, to be incarcerated as such.

Chuck let him out. "Look, B ... I mean Neal, we need to keep you for one more day, and no you didn't do anything. Would you care to stay over at my place? I can promise good food and company. Your other option is to stay in this cell. It's kind of a matter of national security." He added the last part when Neal looked like he was going to refuse, one way or the other.

Neal's eyes looked like the underbelly of a thundercloud, but he agreed, and called Agent Burke to tell him that he was going to stay an extra day. "Yes Peter, they say it's a matter of national security...No I'm not going to try to run off...Wait that's on the table?"

Here Burke's yelling grew audible for all of them to hear, "No I am not extending your radius from the east coast to the west. That's beyond ridiculous Neal!"

Caffrey smiled lazily, "Just thought I'd ask. Bye Peter!"

Later that evening, after Chuck had washed up and Neal had finished critiquing Chuck's alcohol selection, "Really? Two buck Chuck?", the two sat down together, Chuck with a beer and Neal with a incredulous look on his face.

"I can't believe you actually like that stuff. Give me a good pinot noir any day." Neal snarked.

"It's funny, because I acquired this taste from you." Chuck fired back.

"You mean the person you think is me." Neal leaned back in his chair, taking a long look around the apartment, wondering exactly what had happened that day.

"No, I mean you. I designed that software myself, and my bugs don't have bugs. You are either Bryce Larkin, or you are a twilight-zone clone of him." Chuck took a deep breath. "How about I tell you how we met, and why we all reacted the way that we did." Neal nodded and leaned forward. "It all started when you sent me an e-mail." And Chuck began to tell a story, one that lasted late into the night, a story so incredible that even he had a hard believing some of it. It was his story; the story of the nerd became a spy, after meeting the girl of his dreams and almost being shot before breakfast. Something about Neal just kept him talking, and he began pouring his heart out, much like he used to do with Bryce all those late nights ago over circuits homework. He told him about lying to his sister, almost becoming his father, his father dying in front of them.

The sun set and rose as he talked, and at the end, Neal stretched and yawned, "That's the most ridiculous story that I've ever heard. But I believe you, for whatever reason."

"Thanks. We should get going though" Chuck stood slowly, "Wouldn't want to be late for work."

General Diane Beckman exuded an era of command that leached through video screens. When she was physically in attendance at a meeting, however, the effect was much less pronounced, as it is hard to be intimidated by someone you have to look down to talk to. "Team, here is our working hypothesis at the moment. When Chuck uploaded 2.0, Bryce Larkin was shot and presumably died while talking to Chuck in the Intersect Room. However, his body was taken by Ring agents who remained unaccounted for, even after security arrived on site. Given the fact that Larkin was in fact resurrected by FULCRUM, it is completely logical that the Ring has this technology. Now, I have been authorized to unseal one of the CIA's deepest confidential files in order to tell you this. Before you, Chuck, there were other experiments in Intersect technology. Most of resulted in the total psychosis of the subject, however, there was one, Agent X, aka Harvey Winterbottom, where the download took hold. He became Alexei Volkoff, now one of the world's most deadly weapons dealers, in order to gain information on all of the other world's top arms dealers. However, the download overwrote his brain, much like what happened to Chuck last year. In essence he became Volkoff. We suspect that the Ring used similar technology to overwrite Agent Larkin's memories, in order to control him, and gain a mole within the FBI. Also Chuck, your mother is alive and working Volkoff. We're not sure why. DAMMIT that's not right." She sighed and looked out the window of her jet at the dark Midwest. _They're not going to believe this_ she thought bitterly _I hardly believe it._

She thought right. Immediately after she dropped her reworded bombshell, Castle exploded into noise: Neal protesting his existence, Chuck wanting to know everything about his mother's situation, Shaw Casey and Sarah all clamoring for mission specs. "Agents you will sit down and shut up. Now!" Beckman thundered in the voice that had made Air Force underlings quiver for twenty years. Silence. "Thank you. Now Mr. Caffrey, these are your test results." She handed him a file, "DNA, fingerprint, and retinal scans all confirm that you are in fact one Bryce Andrew Larkin, a former AIC of this particular project. We do have the technology to undo the Ring programming, but I strongly suggest that you make a decision as to which person you wish to be in the future. Be warned that there are consequences to your decision, whichever you may choose. Agent Bartowski, your mother is currently wanted for treason in relation to Operation Isis, the mission to recapture Alexei Volkoff and restore Dr. Winterbottom. She cut all ties about to the CIA about ten years ago, and we have deduced from ambient chatter that a woman of her description, codename Frost, has been working as Volkoff's second in command. Agents Shaw and Walker, Colonel Casey, your mission parameters have not changed. We will take down the Ring, permanently, and then proceed with the completion of Isis, to whatever end that might lead. AM I CLEAR?!"

Everyone sitting at the table immediately agreed.

**A/N 2: So what did you guys think? Now write down whatever you just said in that little blue box at the bottom of this page. Thanks!**

**A/N 3: I may be switching this story over to a purely Chuck story, so that it can get a little more exposure. Just a heads up!**


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